


Working Late

by fictorium



Category: Last Tango In Halifax
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Desk, Desk Sex, F/F, Femslash, Fingerfucking, Late Night Conversations, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:51:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3597003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caroline is working late. A little impatient, Kate pays her a visit.</p><p>Written for the many, many prompts that wanted #22 Desk Sex for the McKenzie-Elliots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working Late

When the first knock goes unacknowledged, Kate raps her knuckles much more forcefully against the wood a second time. Even in her deepest pits of concentration and impenetrable spreadsheets, Caroline will register that noise.

“Yes?” Comes the bark, not the polite, breezy “come in” Kate’s used to. Even then, Caroline usually gets up and answers the door herself. She’s never been one for too many airs and graces about her position as Head.

“It’s after nine,” Kate says in lieu of a greeting. “I made dinner for Lawrence, but I didn’t want to eat without you.”

“You should have,” Caroline replies. “I, uh... I think there’s an M&S salad in here somewhere. Beverley left it for me, but I’m not hungry. You have it, love.”

“I didn’t come foraging for food,” Kate points out, taking up position behind Caroline’s office chair. “I came looking for my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Caroline retorts. “Didn’t we agree we’re a bit long in the tooth for that?”

“Well, partner sounds like we run a law firm. And I think we’re much, much hotter than that, don’t you?”

“Mmm,” Caroline seems inclined to agree, but that may just be a response to the soft kisses Kate is planting on her neck. It’s a magnificent neck, too, one of Kate’s favourite things about the woman she loves. Caroline brushes off compliments like so much water off a duck’s back but where the words make no mark, Kate’s confident of the impact her kisses will have.  
Sure enough, the laptop is firmly closed a moment later, the reading glasses tossed aside on a pile of report cards, a chunk of which Kate has contributed to the pile. There’s something she likes about their signatures together on this simple piece of paperwork, a duet that tells the world nothing but that resonates in the quiet spaces of their relationship.

“Your desk is a mess,” Kate whispers. “You’d get detention for this much chaos if you were a pupil.”

“Lucky I’m the boss then, isn’t it?” Caroline murmurs in response. There’s no particular need to be quiet, Beverley and Alison are long gone, the corridors of the school deserted, and the only activity is on one of the rugby pitches, which Kate saw being wrapped up on her way over.

“Being in charge of everything isn’t always good for you,” Kate tells her, drawing back to start massaging Caroline’s perpetually tense shoulders. “You want to try letting someone else be the boss of you for a while.”

“Got someone in mind?” Caroline asks. When Kate deepens the squeezing of her fingers, the moan that escapes Caroline’s lips is positively obscene. So. Slow and steady might officially be out the window. It’s not like Kate can’t work with that.

She moves the laptop first. Impulsive is one thing, but suicidal is another. Once it’s safely on the bookcase, Kate wheels Caroline ever so slightly out of the way and sweeps the debris on her desk to the floor. It’s one graceful swing of Kate’s left arm, and damn, is it satisfying.  
Caroline is practically squeaking in outrage, but aside from reassembling some stacks of ring-binders it really isn’t all that bad. Not that Kate intends to let Caroline dwell on the mess, not when it’s getting later and there are so many more pressing concerns. 

“Up,” she directs, and for a long moment Caroline stares her down. Her jacket is hanging on the coat rack still, so Kate is treated to the simple outlines of a navy blue a-line and a crisp blue and white-striped button-down that makes her tingle every time she sees it on Caroline.  
The power-dressing works, Kate should make a point of really telling Caroline that sometime and making her believe it. It’s what makes her so tangible, perhaps, a presence to be reckoned with whatever room she’s in. She dons Boden like Balenciaga, and whatever the tag it’s as effective as any shiny suit of armour. Those strong shoulders, stress-bearing but so infinitely delightful to kiss, to trace, are emphasized in this shirt especially. She’s as marvellous as any Greek sculpture, and Kate feels the ache between her legs increase as Caroline takes the few steps required to stand in front of her now-empty desk.

“What do you want?” She whispers it against Kate’s ear, playing dirty. Since that first time, the time that actually counted, it’s been a weakness. That Caroline with her effortless teacher’s projection and crisp, Harrogate diction can make Kate tremble with just a little whispered profanity should come as no surprise by now, but she steels herself to carry out what she started.

“Up,” Kate repeats, guiding Caroline’s hips with her hands until she’s sitting on her own desk. “This can go first,” Kate decides, unbuttoning Caroline’s shirt. “You’re working too hard.”

“I’m just trying-”

“Ssh,” Kate amends. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m just looking after you, that’s all. Since we both know you’ll forget to look after yourself.”

Caroline’s kiss then is a thank you, wordless but fierce. Kate smiles against her lips for a moment, then resumes her unbuttoning, pulling the material away greedily, and pushing it far enough down Caroline’s arms to be out of the way but still the slightest of restraints.

“I’ve been waiting for you since half four,” Kate murmurs, her mouth drawn to Caroline’s collarbone as though by magnetic force. “Do you know how many idle fantasies I can come up with in four-and-a-half hours? In that house of yours-”

“Ours,” Caroline corrects, because it will be, soon.

“With all those surfaces? The tables, the sofas, the desks? God, it’s a wonder we ever make it to your bed.”

Caroline cries out softly as Kate caresses her nipples through the soft lace of her bra. Two thumbs, enough pressure to suggest that tonight will not be about teasing, and Caroline is arching into the touch; already silently pleading for more.

“Kate.”

It’s a question, a demand and a prayer all in one. Radio 3 is playing faintly in the background, and in moments like these Kate can imagine what might move a person to write rippling sonatas and thundering marches. Caroline, quivering at her slightest touch, makes Kate feel like she’s conducting the London Philharmonic, and who wouldn’t rush to the Albert Hall to see a sight like this?

It’s a point of pride now, to build Caroline’s first climax like a crescendo. Gentle and quick draws one particular breathy reaction, skirt yanked up and marooned around her waist. Slower and more determined, more pressing as underwear gives way all too easy, already soaked. Kate knows her fingers are strong from all those years of stubborn organ keys, and it’s here that Caroline really comes alive.

Her forehead rests on Kate’s shoulder while fingers stroke determinedly through enough wetness to make Kate feel pretty damn proud of herself. Caroline is muttering the way she does when she doesn’t want to say any one thing, fragments of words and thoughts that can be deciphered with enough practice. Kate presses her thumb on Caroline’s clit when coherence is lost altogether, and there’s not much chance of her holding out now, not caught off-guard like this.

“I… I…” Caroline has a glorious, focused moment of lucidity, throwing her head back and grabbing Kate’s shoulders instead of the desk. Clamping down hard on Kate’s fingers, Caroline sobs her release in staccato bursts, the tension draining from her body by degrees. Kate is shifting, freeing her hand to hold Caroline close as she hits the boneless stage, gathering her in a tight hug that doesn’t feel as ludicrous as it should, still dressed and Caroline half-so in the Headteacher’s office on a Tuesday night.

“Now you see the merits of coming home, Dr. Elliot?” Kate asks when Caroline puts some strength into hugging her back. They’ll drive home in separate cars, praying Lawrence has retreated to his room by the time they’re back at the house, and round two can begin in earnest.

“Not so fast, pal,” Caroline protests, shimmying from the surface of the desk and ridding herself of the bunched-up skirt and her navy-blue knickers along with it. She keeps her heels on, and shrugs the shirt the rest of the way down her arms. “You think you can waltz in here, blow my mind and expect me to drive home without getting my hands on you properly? No, no, no, Miss MacKenzie. That would never do.”

“I didn’t think I’d get you all but naked, admittedly,” Kate welcomes the kiss, drawing Caroline close. “But it leaves me overdressed, wouldn’t you say?”

“You know what to do about that,” Caroline announces, sitting heavily in her desk chair and crossing her bare legs in a lazy kick that’s almost certainly an homage to Sharon Stone, right down to the way her shoes shine in the low light of the room.

Kate grins, and slips out of her dark green top with ease. Her trousers are quick to follow, and she kicks off the gray flats she usually keeps in the car just for driving. In her rush to see Caroline, she forgot to swap them out again. 

“Over the desk,” Caroline says, nodding towards it. “Face down, I think.”

“You’re not-”

“Come along,” Caroline insists, leaning forward and smacking Kate lightly on the bottom. “Pull those down and I might just make it worth your while.

And oh, how Caroline does. No sooner is Kate trying to get comfortable bent over the desk in nothing but her bra than Caroline leaves the comfort of her office chair to kneel in front of Kate’s spread legs, her wet pussy conveniently at face height.

“Caroline…”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. That said, I’m a bit eager to get on with it. Shall I? Or did you want to have a chat first?”

“You carry on,” Kate teases right back, her words ending in a gasp as Caroline takes a cursory, long lick with her tongue. She smacks once more, perhaps for good luck or simply for emphasis, and with a gentle bite to Kate’s inner thigh, Caroline is off and running. Really, she’s a woman possessed. That single-minded focus is really a delight to be on the receiving end of, and a few minutes later with her hips rocking gently back towards Caroline’s talented mouth, Kate is bereft when Caroline pulls away.

“Just a minute,” Caroline says, rummaging in her handbag for something. “I, uh, well. Shall we say, on a strictly private basis, that I considered that little suggestion you made the other week.”

There’s the distinct sound of a cap popping. Kate bites her lip in anticipation.

“I did some reading, you see,” Caroline continues, because of course she did. “And you’ll be pleased to hear the science is really very sound.” She says this as she rubs the first drops of shiveringly-cold lube over Kate’s puckered hole. With just a moment or two of tentative rubbing, the gel warms, and Kate can’t hold back her moan at Caroline’s first gentle press of her thumb. There’s resistance, sure, but Kate knows how to relax; unlike Caroline, this isn’t her first time.

The pressure is delightful as Caroline eases her thumb in as far as what feels like the first knuckle, and Kate whimpers. She can barely contain herself when Caroline drops her little bottle and puts the fingers of her other hand back on Kate’s aching clit.

“I wouldn’t be averse,” Caroline murmurs, resting her cheek against Kate’s arse and regulating the pace of each set of fingers, her thumb now fully inside and a second finger nudging as though to join, testing Kate’s concentration as sensation builds upon sensation. “To letting you try this on me sometime. Perhaps when we get home, if we’re not too tired.”

The thought of Caroline submitting to her like this fills Kate with a euphoria that wipes out any hopes of resistance she might have. Thoughts of prolonging give way to how damn good it all feels, and Caroline’s murmurs of encouragement coupled with relentless pace have Kate’s knees trembling before very long at all.

When she comes, it’s with a shout, and she rakes her fingers across the desk in a way that would scar any less varnished surface. Caroline is very, very proud of herself as she helps Kate stand and then collapse into the chair. It’s almost sweet when she reaches for a couple of wipes and proceeds to clean up their respective thighs right after her hands.

“We should get going,” Kate says, punchdrunk and unable to keep from smiling. “It’s late.”

“It was a lovely visit,” Caroline agrees. “Leave your car here, eh? We’ll say it broke down if anyone asks. But they won’t.”

“Whatever you want,” Kate agrees. “Can I have a minute before I get dressed.”

“Have as many minutes as you need, love. Want some water? Beverley will have left a few bottles in the fridge, I’m sure.” Caroline is already dressing, her recovery all but complete.

“That would be nice.”

“Be right back,” Caroline promises. She doubles back a second later, kissing Kate soundly on the lips before taking off towards the outer office again.

Kate spins in the chair when the feeling is fully back in her legs. Who would have thought, all those months ago during an unceremonious dumping, that she’d be back here on this side of the desk, and in such a thoroughly well-fucked state?

She hears the sound of Caroline returning, having found the water or not, and smiles at her great good fortune.


End file.
